


1986

by curiositydooropened



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Background Demogorgon (Stranger Things), Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Post-Season/Series 03, Ronance, a bit of robin and steve being bff, stancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiositydooropened/pseuds/curiositydooropened
Summary: normally this would end in a New Years kiss. Instead, Nancy stood beside him with her petite thumb cocked on the hammer of a pistol.“Seven, six, five,” he could feel Robin’s breath against his ear, her own bony fingers clutching at his jacket just under his shoulder.“Four, three, two...”Nancy stepped around him, shoe crunching the snow beneath her. Steve looked up from his watch simultaneously to the monster looking up from its kill. Steve swung his bat up for a defensive stance, but the crackle of New Years fireworks startled them from up above. All eyes went skyward, seeing flashes of gold and green and blue. All eyes except Nancy’s, who stayed on her target with a crisp pop, pop, pop.---While attending a New Years Eve party at Tommy's, Steve gets the creepy feeling that he's being watched. Then, the lights start to blink. His first instinct is to call two of his favorite monster hunters. Steve, armed with his bat, Nancy and her gun, and Robin and her brain set off into the woods to try to hunt the newest beast from another dimension. Did the gate open again? Will they be able to banish the Upside Down for good this time?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1986

It was 11:01 pm and Steve was stuffed into his graduation suit and tie, leaning against the Hagan’s buffet, clutching his second flute of champagne, and wishing he pressured Robin harder to be his date. His mother left him a half hour ago to mingle with Mrs. Perkins, and he was forced to shake hands with his father’s acquaintances. Shame dad wasn’t there to make faces at his Family Video job. After a while, the family friends lost interest, or grew uncomfortable with small talk, and Steve excused himself to the shadowy corner near the Christmas tree. 

The atmosphere in the room was supposed to be a toasty warm, but Steve’s dress shirt clung to his back and his tie was too tight. His mom picked out this suit specifically. She was furious when she found blood on the collar after graduation. Luckily mom’s disappointment wasn’t as permanent as dad’s and as soon as that dry cleaner promised he could get it out, Steve was off the hook. He didn’t even have to explain to her that Tommy started it and Billy finished it, ripping Steve off the freckly dick’s gangly ass body.

Tommy was due to arrive any moment. “ _Just wait around, Steve. Tommy will be so glad you came._ ” Steve took it Tommy didn’t exactly tell his mom the reason for his shiner either. He hadn’t seen Tommy since their fight after graduation, except the one time he came into Scoops Ahoy and ordered extra cherries in a way that made Carol’s eyes roll back into her head. Steve heard Robin muttering about jock dickheads under her breath. He liked her a little more that day.

He really wished she was there. Robin’s loud mouth proved inappropriate in social situations like these, which is exactly why he let it go when she protested his invitation, but her asides and mumbled commentary would have made for a far more entertaining night. He can’t believe he agreed to join mom on _New Years Eve_ to a dumb ass adult party full of stuffy assholes like his dad. 

It was probably because his dad had been _on_ him lately. He was ragging on and on about applying for community colleges for the Spring semester or figuring out how to bump Keith out of management at Family Video, which would never happen. Keith cared way too fucking much about the damn store and Steve cared way too little. He liked the job, yeah, but not enough to like... run the store. So when dad gave him another “disappointed in you, son” chat before announcing he’d be in Miami for New Years, the Catholic guilt settled in and Steve agreed to be mom’s date for this lame ass event.

Fog coated the inside of the sliding glass door in the den. That’s how he knew he wasn’t the only one feeling stuffy. The champagne hadn’t even given him a healthy buzz (not like the vodka he and Robin split on the weekends. “ _Cheers to Mother Russia_.”). Instead, his temples pounded with the familiarity of a headache and he found himself pressing forward through a thick sea of bodies until he reached the doors.

The brisk chill of winter was exactly what he needed. Sliding the door closed behind himself, he took in a deep breath, watching his exhale steam and swirl away from him and into the night. He leaned against the siding of the house, feet scuffing the concrete patio, and leaned his head back to look up at the starry night.

The Christmas bulbs lining the Hagan’s gutters were creepy as hell, and they cast colorful shadows onto the melting snow banks around him. He took a few more deep breaths, the cold air chilling the sweat on the small of his back. He needed a cigarette. A shiver wracked through him.

“Well, well, look who the cat dragged in.” A screechy voice called from the other side of the yard. Another shiver threatened.

“Hey, Carol.”

“Harrington, what are you doing here?” Tommy spat as the couple approached. Tommy’s arm was linked around the redhead’s neck, his blue puffy jacket enveloping her bitchy face.

“Your mom invited me.” It wasn’t meant to be a joke, but Steve didn’t hate it.

Carol weasled out from her boyfriend’s reach to approach Steve first, resting nails on his shoulder pads to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. He supposed he didn’t hate Carol. “How’s my little Ice Cream Man?” Oh no, that’s right. He did hate Carol.

“I don’t sling ice cream anymore. Mall burned down, remember?”

“Oh that’s right, Mom said you’re working at Family Video.” Tommy sniggered.

“She’s a frequent customer.” Steve shot back, trying to piggy back off his first joke.

“So are you here alone?” Carol asked, peering into the sliding glass door with her hands wedged in her coat pockets. 

“No, I’m here with Tommy’s mom.” 

“Fuck off, Harrington. I heard you’re seeing that lesbian. The one from the ice cream place.” 

“Who told you that?” Steve felt panic swell in his chest at the ‘lesbian’ word. He knew Robin wasn’t out and she would _freak_ if anyone knew.

“Nicole said she saw you screwing in the back of your car last Friday.” Carol batted her eyelashes, playfully swatting at his arm.

Steve rolled his eyes. “And you believe everything Nicole says?”

“I’d probably do her.” Tommy shrugged, not specifying which girl he was talking about. Carol swatted at him next. Steve really wished Robin was there to see the look of total disgust on her face. He’d have to tell her about this later.

“Robin and I are just friends.”

“Still not over Princess Nancy?” Tommy grinned, forking his tongue between his teeth. It was a habit he’d picked up from Billy, trading King Steve for the new kid in town, the cool kid from California, the one that saved Eleven. Steve felt an odd pang in his chest. “Oh, shit. Are you kidding me, Harrington? Still hung up over Wheeler? Didn’t she dump you like... a year ago?”

“No, I’m not... just forget it.” Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

Something caught his eye just over Tommy’s shoulder, the deliberate and static blinking of colored lights against the snowy canvas of the roof. That paired with the unnerving feeling of being watched. Steve’s heart palpitated. He stared up at the red light as it blinked and again and again steady, and then the blue, green, yellow.

“Earth to Harrington?” Tommy waved a dumb hand in front of his face and turned around when Steve didn’t shift focus.

The lights lit up, one by one, up and around the house.

“It’s called a timer, dumbass. Ever seen lights blink before or is Papa Harrington too cheap for that technology?”

A chill shot straight to the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck, a familiar dread and sinking stomach. He’d seen lights behave that way before, not erratic but intentional. They pressed forward, illuminating the warm icicle lights on the neighbor’s house, headed straight down the street for Steve’s.

“I um... I gotta go.” Steve patted Tommy’s chest, pushing himself back into the house to find his mom.

“Harrington, what the hell?” Tommy shouted from outside, the group of smoking men grunting and grumbling at the disturbance of Steve’s body elbowing through. He ignored Tommy and Carol’s confused questioning.

His mom was in the parlour, long legs crossed in nylons against an ugly floral couch. Steve had vomited vodka cranberry all over that couch his sophomore year. 

“Mama,” he reached for her, placing a hand to her padded shoulder to softly interrupt the conversation she was having with Carol’s mom.

“Steve, hi,” Mrs. Perkins greeted.

“Hi,” he breathed, feeling choked in the stuffy house. His eyes kept darting through the blinds to see blinking lights outside. Panic still lingered behind his ears. 

“Steven,” his mother turned to face him. “How are you?”

“I gotta go, mom.” He bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Steven,” mom warned between thin lips. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good, and I’m going to go home.”

“Steven, we talked about this.” She tapped anxious fingernails against her champagne flute. It tinkled to the rhythm of the blinking lights. Steve’s hands yearned for his bat.

“I know, mom, but I just... have to go. Right now. Call me when you need me to pick you up.” He kissed her briefly on a chiseled cheekbone, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders in a necessary may-never-see-you-again embrace and ran for the coat closet.

He got his coat and threw it on in a whoosh of polyester on his way out the door, feet sliding on icy pavement down Tommy’s driveway to his Beamer. He nearly launched himself over the hood, fumbling with the keys before he got in and ignited the engine. 

He fishtailed out of the drive, chasing the lights as they blinked houses by house. Two streets over, he beat them to his own driveway, throwing the door open. He hurried to his truck, popping it to retrieve his bat, one eye on his neighbors, but by now the lights had stopped.

His heart pounded in his ears, and he sucked in gulps of steamed breath. This couldn’t be happening. Eleven closed the gate in July. The monster died. It dropped Billy. It caught fire. Steve watched it happen. Sure, he was concussed and high as shit, but he wasn’t imagining it. He still remembers how it felt, the adrenaline coursing through him as he chucked fireworks into the beast, the smell of rotting human flesh. That shit was heavy.

Bat clutched in hand, he walked slowly into his dark home. It felt warm, welcoming, but as soon as the door closed behind him, he rushed toward the phone in the kitchen. With the lights off, his tv room glowed blue from an illuminated empty pool, and he thought of Barb.

He hadn’t realized his fingers had dialed until his phone was to his ear and ringing. 

“ _Wheeler Residence, this is Karen._ ” 

Fuck. He took a deep breath, running a hand over his tired face. “Uh, hey, Mrs. Wheeler. This is Steve.” 

“ _Oh, Steve. Nice to hear from you again. Are you looking for Dustin? He’s not here, I think they said they were going to Lucas’s._ ”

Leave it to Mrs. Wheeler to be unsure of the whereabouts of her own children. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool metal of the fridge. “Actually, is um... is Nancy there?”

“ _One second_.” 

He heard the muffled call and response of conversation and the fumble of footfalls up the familiar staircase until finally he received a winded response. 

“ _Steve_?”

“Hey, Nance,” he breathed. Of course, he’d seen her since Starcourt Mall. He saw her when he picked the twerps up from the Byers’ or from the Wheelers’, and occasionally her and Jonathan came in to pick up pretentious ass movies that Robin and Jonathan would geek the fuck out over. Steve and Nancy would laugh and roll their eyes, and then a palpable silence always fell over them. They hadn’t spoken one-on-one since Jonathan moved.

“ _What’s... How are you_?”

Steve swallowed. “Do you feel weird tonight?” What kind of question was that?

“ _Are you drunk_?”

“What? No. Shit.” He sighed, turning back to stare out the open window. “I just mean... I was at a party and I felt weird like... like I was being watched.”

“ _Are you high?_ ”

“You know what, forget it. Sorry, Nance.” He felt frustrated, wondering why his brain and his hands always went to her first. He always thought of dialing her number before Robin’s, always wanted her reassurance instead of Dustin’s, always craved her kiss to his cheek over his mom’s. 

“ _Steve, wait! I’m sorry. Do you think it’s something to do with... you know_?”

He shrugged. “The lights, Nance. The lights at Tommy’s house started blinking. The way they did at the Byers.” 

She was quiet for a long moment.

“ _Did you talk to Dustin_?”

“Not yet.” He called her first.

“ _Do you want... I mean, I can come over._ ”

“No, Nance, it’s probably fine.” He knew it wasn’t. The same tightness in his shoulder blades didn’t subside, and he kept feeling eyes stare back at him from the abyss that was his backyard.

_“No, I want to. I’ll be right there. You have your bat_?”

He sighed in response. She didn’t wait for his answer before she hung up. He felt twice as tense now, knowing Nancy was on her way, probably with a gun, ready to hunt monsters. Once again, he found himself wishing Robin was there to diffuse the situation. 

He sprung into action, fingers quickly dialing Robin’s number, and he tucked the phone back under his ear. The line rang and rang and rang.

“ _You’ve reached the Buckley Residence. We can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave a message after the tone. Thank you_.”

He cursed, slamming the phone back to the receiver, but as he did so, the sound was mirrored in a thump on his front door. Shivers tickled at the back of his neck. He wrung the neck of the bat tightly, taking slowly steps toward the sound. The pounding continued.

With a deep breath, and the bat in one hand behind him, he swung the door open. Standing before him, freckled cheeks tinged with pink from the snow and he guessed rage, was a very dressed up Robin. She shoved him inside with two fingers to the chest and stomped snowy _heels?_ against the entryway rug. 

“Hello, dingus,” she chided, folding her arms over her chest. Beneath her blue ski jacket was the poof of a navy dress, and he couldn’t help but eye her appearance in a state of shock. _Had she curled her hair?_ “Eyes are up here, asshole.” She grumbled, picking at the hem of her jacket in discomfort. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, blinking back at her eyes as instructed.

“Well, I could ask you the same thing, dickhead. I went to Tommy H.’s house to _surprise_ you, and come to find out, you weren’t even there. So I marched my ass in the freezing cold to find you here in the dark?” She frowned upward.

“Shit,” he reached over to flick on the light, exposing Robin in her full regalia. Her eyelids sparkled and her lips held the slightest hint of a gloss that he would have jumped at six months earlier.

“And you’re lucky I’m not even that mad because I got this creepy ass vibe at Tommy’s, and I couldn’t find you and I thought for sure you were taken by the Russians... Why do you have your bat?” 

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. Your bat, Steve! The one with the nails! In your hand!” 

“You got creeped out? At Tommy’s?” The sinking feeling, previously distracted, made itself known in his stomach once more.

“Yeah, just like the creeps. Like... I don’t know. What’s going on?”

Steve sighed, glancing back to the dark kitchen behind him. “I was at Tommy’s and the lights started blinking.” 

“Like when we were drugged?” Robin asked, pulling her jacket closer around herself. 

“No, like the Byers’ house the first time.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. I followed them down here, but by the time I got here, they stopped.” 

“You think it’s _here_?” Robin looked around, a shiver wracking through her.

“No,” Steve shook his head, peering out into the frosty blue backyard. “I think it went into the woods.”

A second, softer knock on the door startled the two in front of it, and Steve quickly launched himself between them to answer it. The heavy door swung open to reveal the very petite, very flustered frame of a one Nancy Wheeler. Her outfit, clearly tossed on at the last possible second, was the polar opposite of Robin’s get up, with jean legs shoved into snow boots and curly hair shoved under a knit cap that read ‘MICHAEL’. 

“ _Nancy_?” Robin greeted.

Steve breathed her name, reaching out to wrap his hand tenderly around her wrist and pull her in from the cold. 

“Robin? I’m sorry, I didn’t expect...” 

Robin shot Steve wide eyes and pointed fingers, and Steve ran a hand over his face. 

“What are you doing here?” Robin asked loudly when her best friend didn’t seem to want to give her any answers.

The two girls just stood there, mouths agape, not knowing where to continue this conversation. Steve thought of a concise way to explain what was happening, but a familiar flicker echoed in the yard just beyond Robin’s head.

“Should I just...” Nancy made for the door handle, but Steve grabbed her delicate fingers in his own, pulling her toward the living room. Robin squawked, grabbing his arm to follow.

They found a quiet corner and he held a finger to his lips, leaning against the sliding glass door. The soft blue light blinked above the pool, and he swore he almost saw the silhouette of a forgotten friend, legs swinging on the diving board.

“Did you see that?” He hissed.

“See what?” Robin stood on tiptoe to see over his shoulder. 

“Steve, are you sure you’re okay?” Nancy asked, but she peered off into his yard and he watched the faintest of shivers shake her shoulders. She never used his pool after that day, couldn’t stomach it. He couldn’t really either anymore.

He sighed, peering out into the woods for any other sign of life. “I was at Tommy’s for a New Years party, and in their backyard, and their lights started to blink. If that was it, I’d be fine. But I got this... feeling.” 

“Like you were being watched.” Robin finished for him. “I felt that too.” 

“You were there?” Nancy asked. “I mean, did you see the lights too?”

“No, but I was only there for like five minutes before someone said they saw Steve dip.”

“Oh,” Nancy’s eyebrows pulled together in that familiar pout of contemplation. 

“The lights started blinking up the road, house after house. So I had to leave. I drove home, grabbed my bat and called you.” 

“Huh...” Robin shot him a look. 

“I called you too, shit bird, but you were already on your way.” 

“Dickhead.” 

“Brat.” 

“Dingus.” 

“Guys!” Nancy drew their attention back to the yard and the woods beyond.

From the house next door, the sounds of celebration could be heard. Popping of poppers, clinking of glasses, whooping and hollaring. Steve glanced down at his watch. Ten minutes until midnight. They must have set their clocks wrong. 

Then, from deeper within the woods, they heard a muffled cry. It felt familiar, terrifying. Steve couldn’t tell if it came from a human or something else. His palm grew sweaty and his grip tightened on his bat.

“What the fuck was that?” Robin hissed from behind them. 

Nancy pulled a handgun from the waistband of her jeans.

“What is going on!?” Robin shrieked, leaping out of the way as Nancy pointed toward the pool.

Steve hushed Robin, stepping beside Nancy with his bat held high. They waited for a long moment, watching the lights as they trickled off, back through the neighbors yard and away. The trees just beyond moved.

“Shit,” Nancy breathed, dropping her hands.

“It’s in the woods.” Steve confirmed.

“We should follow it.” 

“Or... or you know, we could just leave it alone,” Robin whined, but Steve was already sliding open the black door. 

The chill hit them again like a ton of bricks, whipping at cheekbones and fogging their breath. 

“We can’t let it reach the party.” 

“You said you were at Tommy’s?” Nancy muttered, trying to seem like she was making a plan. Steve could hear the judgement in her tone.

“With my mom,” he clarified. 

“Was it fun? Before the lights, I mean.” Was she trying to make small talk? She clutched the pistol between thin fingers, narrowly avoiding icy patches of cement.

“It wasn’t great, Nance.” He rolled his eyes, inching forward past the empty pool. 

“At least Hagan didn’t kick your ass this time.” Robin sniggered, clinging heavily to Steve’s sleeve to maintain her balance as she stepped carefully behind him.

“First of all, he didn’t kick my ass _last_ time. I would’ve killed him if it weren’t for...” His throat closed around Billy’s name. Nancy shot them a look of confusion. Steve rolled his eyes. “Listen, the point is, I don’t want my mom to be eaten by a demogorgon. Could we pick up the pace?”

“Does Dustin know what’s going on?” Robin faltered on the last patch of ice before the woods and Steve slung an arm around her waist to steady her against him. “Thanks.” She breathed.

Nancy cleared her throat, and Steve noticed she was trying to look anywhere but at the two of them. 

“Careful, will you?” He set Robin upright, leaving her behind to lead the group into the woods. “And no, I didn’t call Dustin. So I hope to God he doesn’t know what’s going on.” Steve liked to think Dustin was sitting around a table at Lucas’s, tossing dice or whatever the hell those little nerds did in their free time. Singing, maybe?

“All their bikes were at Lucas’s when I drove by,” Nancy mumbled, pushing quietly through low-hanging branches. 

“Good,” Steve smiled softly her direction. God, why did he still get those butterflies when they interacted? She dumped his ass. She left him for Byers. I mean, Jonathan wasn’t the worst, Steve learned, but Jesus Christ. She told him she didn’t love him and then pawned him off to take care of the little brats.

They continued through the woods, narrowing avoiding the neighbor’s backyards, following any noise they heard. Most of them were false alarms, party goers vomiting beside pool houses, things like that. Until they heard the cry again, louder now in the open, and close. Painfully close.

Nancy took off in a jog toward the sound, nimble feet narrowing missing branches on the ground as she ran. Steve and Robin followed blindly, cursing under their breath, sending fog tumbling into the frigid air around them. Branches whipped at Steve’s face and caught on his hair until he and Robin skid to a halt behind Nancy.

There, hovering over a bloody corpse, was a monster. Steve had seen his fair share of monsters by now, human and non, and this thing, although he couldn’t make out any features in the darkness, definitely wasn’t human. He could tell in way it moved, shoulders hunched as it sucked the soul out of the thing at its feet. Steve didn’t know what made the cry, the beast or its prey.

Nancy raised her gun, sucking in a breath and making to shoot.

“Wait,” Robin hissed. “We’re too close. Someone’s going to hear.”

The blood pounded in Steve’s ears as they watched the monster feast. She was right. If Nancy missed, they’d be compromised. Even if she hit her target, the neighbors would be up in arms about people firing guns so close to their homes. If anything, it’d draw people out from their parties.

“Wait until the fireworks.” Robin’s voice was the quietest he’d ever heard. If he wasn’t so terrified, he’d be annoyed to find out she had a volume other than obnoxious.

The bloody snow glistened under the moonlight. Steve was frozen in place, one arm out to protect Robin. He glanced down at his watch, breathing a countdown. “ _Ten, Nine, Eight_ ,” normally this would end in a New Years kiss. Instead, Nancy stood beside him with her petite thumb cocked on the hammer of a pistol. 

“ _Seven, six, five_ ,” he could feel Robin’s breath against his ear, her own bony fingers clutching at his jacket just under his shoulder. 

“ _Four, three, two_...” 

Nancy stepped around him, shoe crunching the snow beneath her. Steve looked up from his watch simultaneously to the monster looking up from its kill. Steve swung his bat up for a defensive stance, but the crackle of New Years fireworks startled them from up above. All eyes went skyward, seeing flashes of gold and green and blue. All eyes except Nancy’s, who stayed on her target with a crisp _pop, pop, pop_.

The monster went down with a blood curdling cry, diminishing in a pool of blood before it returned to its dimension. 

“Happy New Year,” Steve breathed, rushing before the girls to the spot the monster just stood. He had terrible deja vu to the night at the Byers’, Christmas lights strewn about every square inch that strobed, the pop of Nancy’s gun, the blood on the floor in the bear trap before it disappeared. 

“I don’t understand,” Robin said. “Where did it go?”

“Back to the Upside Down.” Nancy responded.

Steve used his bat to poke at the corpse on the ground, small, a cat maybe? He could only see fur and blood in between flashes and crackles of fireworks. He thought of Mews and prayed to God Dustin wasn’t caught up in it this time. 

“Is it dead?”

“I don’t think so.” They were talking about the demogorgon.

“I thought Eleven killed it,” Steve sighed, running a hand over his tired face. The flashes from the fireworks cast shadows against the trees that hurt his eyes. He was prone to light sensitivity thanks to the myriad of concussions he’d had over the past three years. 

“This must be a new one.” 

“Does that mean the Mind Flayer is back too?”

“I don’t know.” 

“So how do we kill it?”

“Can we start by getting out of the woods?” Robin interrupted them, and they turned to see her hugging her nice coat tightly around herself. Her teeth chattered, curled hair turned crunchy in the cold, lips turning a pale blue.

The cries from neighborhood parties cheered loudly, fainter now than before. Steve glanced off in the direction of Tommy’s, hoping his mom was safe, hoping Nancy had killed the beast before it could do more damage. A shiver wracked through him once more. He had a bad feeling that it wasn’t over. Their night had just begun. Happy New Year, 1986.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading the first installment of this idea I've been kicking around for a while. I just love Nancy and Robin because they kick ass, and I love Steve because he does too. I wanted to play with the dynamic of strong women in Steve's life and his need to defend them, even though they really don't need defending. Please chat with me in the comments, as I'm really excited to continue this story! It only gets darker from here! xo


End file.
